Blossom

“Since the paternal aunt has already spoken, how can she go back on her word?” Dou Zhao smiled. “It just so happens that Madam Guo sent someone to convey her wish to form a marriage alliance with our family a few days ago. That’s why I thought it would be best to arrange a betrothal between Wei Ge’er and the eldest granddaughter of the Marquis of Xuannin, thereby resolving this matter proactively. This way, the paternal aunt won’t offend her father-in-law and face hardships.”

Her mother-in-law nodded repeatedly, shedding her usual hesitance and decisively said, “Let’s proceed as you suggest. Madam Guo shares a close friendship with you, and her eldest granddaughter has grown up before our eyes—her character and appearance are truly exceptional, a perfect match for our Wei Ge’er. There’s no time to delay. You should send someone to the Guo family to propose the match in the next couple of days.” But then, realizing Dou Zhao was still bedridden, she quickly amended, “Never mind, I’ll handle this personally. You just rest well—leave everything to me!” With that, she took Wei Tingyu back to her own courtyard to discuss Wei Ge’er’s betrothal.

Dou Zhao felt somewhat relieved and instructed Cuileng, “Go and summon the Young Lord to see me!”

There were some matters she needed to discuss with Wei Ge’er!

Cuileng hurried off to carry out the order.

Exhaustion washed over Dou Zhao, and she unexpectedly fell asleep.

In a hazy state, she heard a commotion.

“…Dearest sister, I’m not here to make a scene or act unreasonably—I’m just worried about Madam’s health,” the shrill voice of Concubine Hu pierced her ears. “Everyone in the household is saying Madam is gravely ill. I just wanted to confirm the truth.” She then began wailing as if mourning a parent’s death. “If anything happens to Madam, how will I and Third Master survive? I might as well follow Madam to the grave…”

Wei Tingyu had four concubines. After Rui Ge’er turned four, they had borne him four sons and four daughters in succession.

In battle, brothers stand together; in war, fathers and sons fight side by side.

With both her sons grown, Dou Zhao didn’t mind the concubines expanding the Wei family’s lineage.

If these children proved capable, they could one day support Wei Ge’er and Rui Ge’er.

Concubine Hu was the first to bear a son for Wei Tingyu.

Back then, she was still young and had basked in her triumph for a while.

Dou Zhao said nothing but proceeded to arrange for Wei Tingyu to take in two more concubines—both exceptionally beautiful and skilled in music, board games, and poetry.

This suited Wei Tingyu’s tastes perfectly.

Day and night, he indulged himself with the new concubines, forgetting all about who Concubine Hu was.

Only then did Concubine Hu realize that as long as Dou Zhao willed it, she could elevate whomever she pleased to favor and relegate others to neglect.

Thereafter, she cast aside her vanity, humbled herself, and began currying favor with Dou Zhao.

Dou Zhao then arranged for Wei Tingyu to take in another concubine, one adept in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting.

Having witnessed Dou Zhao’s power, none of the concubines dared to put on airs or act pretentious thereafter.

Since they behaved obediently, Dou Zhao naturally didn’t make life difficult for them. The concubines’ seasonal clothing and jewelry, as well as the maids and old women attending to the children, were all arranged meticulously—no less than what the legitimate wives and children of prominent families would receive. The concubines settled down, flattering Dou Zhao, serving Wei Tingyu, and bearing children, bringing peace and tranquility to the household.

“What nonsense are you spouting, Concubine?” Cuileng scolded angrily. “Why must you always jump at shadows and spout such inappropriate words? The Marquis and Madam talked late into the night, and Madam has only just fallen asleep. Do you intend to wake her with your noise?”"No, no," Concubine Hu hastily explained, "I... I'm just heartbroken... I wish I could take Madam's place in this illness..."

Her words were filled with genuine emotion.

Dou Zhao believed she spoke from the heart.

If she died, within a year at most, Wei Tingyu would remarry, finding himself a beautiful new companion to share his life with; Wei Ge'er, as the heir of the Marquis of Jining's Mansion, was nearly betrothed—without his birth mother, he would still have his in-laws' support; as for Rui Ge'er and her daughter Yin Jie'er, with Wei Ge'er as their elder brother and heir, they wouldn't suffer either. Only the concubines, with their young sons and fading beauty, would be left without any support!

"Even so, Concubine shouldn't be making such a scene outside Madam's door," came a voice that was gentle yet firm in its admonishment. "If all the concubines behaved like you, the household would be in chaos! It's still early—Concubine probably hasn't had breakfast yet. Why not return to your quarters for a meal and come back when Madam wakes..."

It was Madam Zhu's voice!

Dou Zhao's heart jolted.

Madam Zhu was the wet nurse she had painstakingly selected for her eldest son—a woman of pure character, kind and patient, treating Wei Ge'er with even more care than her own child. What was most remarkable was her sense of responsibility. Whenever Wei Ge'er made a mistake, she never excused it simply because she was his wet nurse, always patiently teaching and urging him to correct himself. So much so that after Dou Zhao gave birth to her second son, she entrusted Rui Ge'er's upbringing to Madam Zhu as well, freeing herself to focus entirely on managing the Wei household affairs.

The consequence was that while her two sons held her in awe and obeyed her, they lacked the natural affection children should have for their mother.

Dou Zhao was filled with regret!

First, she sent Madam Zhu to the secluded courtyard in the Western Hills under the pretense of allowing her a comfortable retirement. Then, she personally took over her sons' daily care, overseeing their studies, and even persuaded Wei Tingyu to teach them horseback riding and archery...

But it was all too late.

Madam Zhu had conducted herself with such openness and integrity that there was nothing to criticize. At ten and nine years old, Wei Ge'er and Rui Ge'er were old enough to remember and understand. Her efforts not only failed to bring her sons closer but made them even more reserved in her presence.

She knew they resented her for sending Madam Zhu away.

But who could understand the heartbreak of a mother estranged from her own children?

Perhaps women understand each other best. Madam Zhu seemed to sense her unease and, after moving to the farmstead, never once reached out to Wei Ge'er or Rui Ge'er on her own, let alone returned to the mansion unannounced like this.

Why had Madam Zhu come?

As Dou Zhao pondered, she heard a soft exclamation from outside: "Wet nurse, why are you here? The road from the farmstead to the Capital is so rough—why didn't you tell me? I could have sent the mansion's carriage for you."

The clear, youthful voice belonged to her son, Wei Ge'er.

Since her illness, the children were supposed to attend to her, but she worried about them catching her sickness and only allowed them to pay their respects morning and evening as usual. They must have come to greet her now.

As the eldest legitimate son of the Marquis of Jining's Mansion, he had been raised as the heir from childhood. With Wei Tingyu's example before her, Dou Zhao had been stricter with him than most noble families were with their children. As he grew older, his conduct became increasingly steady, earning praise from many elders—a fact Dou Zhao had once secretly taken pride in.Acting like a child, making a fuss—was this really her usually composed and restrained eldest son?

Dou Zhao did something she had always despised.

She threw on her robe and got up, peering through the window lattice at Zhu Shi and her son.

Perhaps afraid of disturbing her, Zhu Shi lowered her voice: "...I heard Madam was ill, so I just wanted to come and see. Don’t worry, I’ll leave after paying my respects to Madam." Then she asked him, "How have you been these days? I heard from Second Master that you went hunting with the young masters of the Duke of Jing’s household and shot a few golden pheasants?"

Wei Ge’er looked ashamed and protested, "Wet nurse! My cousins shot several rabbits!"

Mother Zhu chuckled. "What’s so impressive about shooting a few rabbits?" She lightly brushed the dust-free lapel of Wei Ge’er’s robe and sighed. "Our Young Lord has grown up, just like the Marquis, skilled in riding and hunting. This time it was golden pheasants, but next time, you’ll surely bring back a roe deer like the Marquis."

She lifted her chin slightly, her expression brimming with pride.

Wei Ge’er was taken aback, then smiled shyly but with evident joy. "Wet nurse, are you settling in well at the farmstead? How is my milk brother? Should I speak to the steward about transferring him to a shop in the Capital? I’ve started assisting Mother with household affairs now. Back then, my milk brother was even better at arithmetic than me—he’d be more than qualified to be a shopkeeper..."

"Nonsense," Zhu Shi chided with a smile, though her eyes betrayed unconcealed comfort. "Household matters follow their own customs and code of conduct. Though he’s your milk brother, he’s still in service to you. Where he serves is for Madam to decide. You’re the Young Lord of the Marquis of Jining’s Mansion, not some common child. You must think carefully before acting and not disrupt rules just because of personal whims..."

"I know, I know!" Wei Ge’er replied impatiently, yet affectionately hooked his arm through Zhu Shi’s. "It’s rare I get to see you—can’t you lecture me less? By the way, after Second Brother visited you last time, he told me your hands were frostbitten. Let me see... I went to the Imperial Hospital the other day and got you a jar of frostbite ointment. They say it’s a formula used by the founding emperor—very effective. I was just about to send it to you when I heard you’d come to the mansion..."

Dou Zhao couldn’t bear to listen any longer.

For her, it was just frostbitten hands, yet you rushed to the Imperial Hospital to fetch imperial-grade medicine. When I was so ill I nearly died, did you ever personally brew me a single bowl of medicine?

A sharp pain spread through her chest.

Dou Zhao stumbled back to her inner chamber, unsure how she even climbed into bed. When she came to her senses, her back was drenched in sweat.

She called sharply for Cuileng: "Bring Zhu Shi and the Young Lord in."

Seeing Dou Zhao’s pallor, Cuileng glanced at her uneasily before going to relay the message.

Soon, Wei Ge’er and Zhu Shi entered.

As if to avoid suspicion, they stood apart, one behind the other, each with respectful composure—one lowering his eyelids and murmuring, "Mother," the other curtsying deferentially and addressing her as "Madam."

A chill seeped into Dou Zhao’s heart. She couldn’t even muster the energy to pretend. Without bothering to dismiss Zhu Shi—knowing her eldest or second son would relay the news to her anyway—she directly informed her son about the impending marriage alliance with the Guo family.Perhaps caught off guard, Wei Ge'er looked bewildered, while Madam Zhu was both startled and overjoyed, her eyes brimming with tears.

Her son had yet to grasp the deeper meaning, but Madam Zhu understood immediately.

Dou Zhao felt a pang of disappointment and simply said to her son, "Your wet nurse raised you with her own milk—even if there's no great merit, there's still hardship. Relay my orders: Madam Zhu may return to serve in your quarters as before, and your milk-brother shall be assigned to work under the Affairs Office's chief steward."

"Mother!" Wei Ge'er cried out in surprise and delight. Without a second thought, he dropped to his knees beside Dou Zhao's bedside and kowtowed heavily several times. "I thank you on behalf of my wet nurse and milk-brother!" His face was alight with excitement.

Madam Zhu panicked and hurriedly tried to pull him up. "Young Lord, this won't do, this won't do!"

Even a wet nurse knew this was improper—could it be that her carefully raised son did not?

It was simply that he couldn't contain his emotions!